Why Australia's Uluru Could Be Closed to Travelers

The iconic site, formerly known as Ayers Rock, is at the center of a controversy.

As the world becomes more connected and airfare gets cheaper, some of the globe's most beloved tourist attractions have had to close or drastically cut back in order to balance the demands of visitors with the environmental needs of the locations, from Venice residents asking cruise ships to bypass their port to officials at Utah's Zion National Park considering a plan to restrict the number of visitors allowed during peak times. Next on the list might be Uluru, one of Australia's most iconic landscapes, which has become the central battleground in an ongoing conflict between the Australian government and the native Aboriginal community that calls the area home.

The Anangu people, native Australians who have traditionally lived around Uluru, are currently at odds with the local and federal governments about the way tourism to the site is handled. An Anangu leader told the New Zealand Herald that, while Uluru brings in millions of dollars in revenue every year, their community sees only a small fraction of that. He also claimed that many Aboriginals in the area live without the basic plumbing, healthcare, or food they have been promised. Local Anangu leaders have threatened to close the rock if their community's needs aren't addressed, although it's not clear how they would do that.

The site is no stranger to controversy. Formerly known as Ayers Rock, the 700-million-year-old monument was returned to the Aboriginal community and to its original name, Uluru, in 1985. As part of the deal, the land was leased to the government for 99 years, to be co-run by the government and the Aboriginals as a national park. Ngaanyatjarra Aboriginal Corporation chairman Rameth Thomas claims that of the huge profits that come to the area via the Ayers Rock Resort , the government-managed resort where the vast majority of visitors begin their Uluru hikes, only seven percent is actually dispersed to the local Aboriginal communities."There is a company making money off a UNESCO-listed natural living landscape, and 26 km [16 miles] away there is a living culture that's dying," he added. "On one side of the rock we are in poverty and the other side is some sort of dream world. They are exploiting our culture here and making millions."

But the discussions regarding tourism at Uluru aren't just about money—as more people attempt dangerous hikes at the rock, there are also safety concerns. In September, three hikers had to be rescued by helicopter after going off of one of the marked trails. And while those three made it out alive, not everyone has been so fortunate: Thirty-six people have died at Uluru, some from climbing the rock, despite signs in multiple languages reading "Our traditional law teaches us the proper way to behave. We ask you to respect our law by not climbing Uluru." (There is not an outright ban, simply a request, so many people ignore this warning and climb anyway.) There are also environmental issues from the 300,000-odd people who visit every year: the soles of rubber hiking shoes have caused erosion, and litter is regularly left behind. Some tourists have started taking pride in being respectful of the local traditions by buying "I Didn't Climb Uluru" T-shirts from local souvenir shops, but others are seemingly still interested in completing the climb. A harshly worded climbing ban, with violators punished via jail time or fines, could be a solution.

While Uluru's fate as a publicly accessible site remains uncertain for now, it might be time to hurry to Australia and cross that off of your bucket list in case things change or access becomes more restricted.